


Here Comes the Sun, Little Darling

by surrenderdammit



Series: Little Falcon [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Dirty Talk, Endearments, F/M, Family, Kid Fic, Preggers sex, Warm And Fluffy Feelings, aka WAFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 08:51:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrenderdammit/pseuds/surrenderdammit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Sweetheart, You're Mine", "(Bee) My Queen" and "A Moment, For You". You don't need to read those to understand this one. Title from the song.</p><p> <br/><i>Four years later, after the birth of his first son, the kingdoms of the land were not yet fully united but war was less imminent and the dangers less pronounced. Merlynn had been the one to bring up the possibility of a second child, after they’d tucked William in for the night and retired. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Here Comes the Sun, Little Darling

**Author's Note:**

> There haha I did it. Another plotless, smutty and fluffy fic in this 'verse. Hope you'll enjoy!
> 
> Please excuse any grammatical errors and/or typos. English isn't my first language and it's unbeta'd.

At night, when the time is theirs, Arthur sometimes lies awake longer than he should. Merlynn says he thinks too much, but it is hard to stop, after a long day of doing little but think about their kingdom’s affairs. She usually manages to distract or exhaust him into blissful sleep eventually, but as they discovered once she started carrying their first child, she tires so easily during pregnancy.

It should perhaps be worrying, since she is such a source of pure energy when she isn’t nursing another life. But she puts her everything into the people she loves and a child so dependent on her protection would be no different. She poured her love and strength into William as he grew inside her; she brought him to this world for Arthur, bloody and screaming but so full of life. It had been the most nerve-wracking experience of Arthur’s life. Making his wife with child during a time of war, knowing an heir was necessary; dreading the fate of his own mother to befall Merlynn, warring with the tentative joy of having created a life with the one he loves the most.

Four years later, after the birth of his first son, the kingdoms of the land were not yet fully united but war was less imminent and the dangers less pronounced. Merlynn had been the one to bring up the possibility of a second child, after they’d tucked William in for the night and retired.

.

_“If I stop taking my potions now, I’ll be fertile within a month’s time,” she’d whispered, tucked against him with her face hidden in the crook of his neck where they lay in bed. He’d stiffened in surprise, but had relaxed as he’d mulled it over._

_“Would you want to?” he’d asked, tentatively hopeful. Her pregnancy had been a strain on her; physically and emotionally. Even her magic had been conflicted, split between the two. He would not have wanted to put her through it again, unless she so wished._

_“Yes,” she’d replied after a while, softly. “It’s safer now. And...and perhaps this one will have magic?”_

_Arthur had smiled. “Perhaps it’ll be a little girl, to inherit your ears.”_

_“Or a son with no interest in swords,” she’d teased, to which he’d gasped in mock-horror. Giggling, she’d pushed at him and he’d taken the invitation, rolling them over for a playful romp as he’d laughed and she’d groaned._

.

Now, Merlynn is a few months along and growing bigger with their second child. She’s sure it’ll be a boy, but Arthur is hoping for a girl with Merlynn’s smile and dark, curly hair. William has the same blond colouring as Arthur, the same blue eyes. He’s a tall, skinny child that is quick on his feet and has unfortunately inherited Arthur’s temper, for the most part, as well as his crooked smiles. Though his knack for getting into trouble is wholly his mother’s fault.

“Arthur, darling, I’m not sure you would survive a daughter,” Merlynn says to his wistful thinking whenever he and William imagines a little Princess to go with their Queen. He always ignores her and chooses not to think of the harried look on Sir Lancelot’s face whenever he’s chasing after little Morgana. She’s already on her 6th summer and is a beautiful reflection of both her parents, with Gwen’s beautiful skin and Lancelot’s noble disposition.

“We’ll be her Knights and save her from towers,” William insists then, brandishing the wooden sword he’s allowed to use outside practise. The blunted steel one is only allowed under supervision, though Merlynn was not happy about it. “She’ll rain fire on Griffins like Mother!”

Arthur grins up at Merlynn from where he’s playing with his son, mock-fighting for the Queen’s favour. Merlynn sighs, put-upon but fond, absently caressing her large belly. “What if it is a boy then?” she asks, her brow raised. William pouts, momentarily distracted. Arthur allows it, pausing as well until he’s got his son attention again.

“I’ll still be his Knight,” William insists, earnest in a way, that have Merlynn’s eyes go soft and warm. “We’ll still save him from towers!”

She looks at Arthur with a crooked smile and he knows they probably won’t get their Princess yet. He’s never asked if her magic senses something, if that’s what makes her certain. He probably won’t, because in the end it doesn’t really matter. It’s their child, and he loves it.

.

It’s late when Arthur finally goes to bed. He’s been finishing up his paperwork by the table in their chambers, the glow of magic light provided by his wife allowing him to continue on past sunset. She insists he read by candlelight as little as possible, claiming her lights are brighter and a lesser strain on his eyes. It is true he has lesser headaches, though it’s not something he admits, if only to have her roll her eyes at him and call him a prat.

“Finally done?” Merlynn mumbles from where she’s curled up in their bed, sheets tangled around her bare legs as she chooses to sleep in large tunics rather than the fine nightgowns she’s been gifted with. She’s always been more comfortable in less fine clothing, especially to bed, where she usually wears Arthur’s nightshifts or tunics when she’s not too big with child or naked.

It’s spring and getting warmer every day; their child is expected to arrive in time for Lughnasadh. Soon she’ll greet him bare when he goes for their bed and the temptation to lose himself in her beautiful body might render him entirely unfit to rule and make rational decisions, like leaving their bed to care for their kingdom.

“You should be sleeping, sweetheart,” Arthur scolds her gently, ridding himself of his clothes until he’s only in his underthings. He ignores her amused huff at his words, crawling underneath the blankets and wrapping himself around her entirely. She’s on her side, back against his chest, and all sleepy softness in his arms. It makes his heart ache so good, and he response he buries his face in her lovely hair and rests his hands on her belly.

“I’m fine,” Merlynn says after a moment, lacing their fingers together. He can hear the soft smile no doubt gracing her face in her voice. “But our little menace is surely exhausted from all the kicking he’s done today. My insides must be terribly bruised.” She scoffs, mockingly. “I should’ve known better than to bear another Pendragon; you lot are stupidly enamoured with physical activity. Bunch of pratty fighters.”

Chuckling, Arthur rubs his thumbs lovingly against the warm skin of her hands. He should probably feel guiltier for being disappointed that their child isn’t kicking up a fuss now, if only to greet Arthur where he cradles his hands against him, but the joy of feeling the evidence of life so preciously secured and nurtured by his wife overrides it. “I do so enjoy physical activity,” Arthur murmurs into her ear, giving it a soft kiss before nibbling lightly on the lobe. Merlynn shivers in his hold, her breath hitching. “I enjoy it very much.”

She gasps when he presses his hardening cock against her bottom, and she’s wriggling delightfully in response to the hard grind he allows to further prove his point. It’s another thing he’s learned from her first pregnancy; her passion for him burns ever brighter and sometimes leaves her mindless in her quest to quench the fire licking inside of her. It’s a delight, though at first he’d been apprehensive due to the child, but his wife is a maddening creature. With assurance from Gaius and the Court Physician who took over his duties three years past, Arthur stood no chance against the force of Merlynn’s desire. Not that he put up much of a battle; she’s as beautiful and desirable as ever when glowing with the miracle that is life, the vitality of their love.

“I want your inside of me,” Merlynn whispers, letting go of one of his hands to reach back and bury her fingers in his hair. She tugs at him as she turns her face to invite for a kiss and Arthur welcomes it, leaning down to capture her mouth with his own. They kiss deep and slow, allowing their desire to simmer into a gradually building heat.

“Please, Arthur, darling,” she gasps, moaning as he’s grinding his cock against her bum, arching as much as she can into his touches. He’s panting from their kiss and the arousing feel of her heat against him, running his hands over her stretched belly and swollen breasts. She’s so sensitive like this, a delicate instrument to play, and she sings under his fingers and against his stiff prick. By the time she’s been reduced to undoing his laces with magic to free his arousal he’s already bunched up her nightshirt to the pits of her arms, freeing her heaving bosom to his greedy touch.

“Shh,” he hushes her when she whimpers. He’s gently kneading a breast and tormenting its sore nipple with the tip of a finger he’d soaked by having it tease her swollen cunt. “Let me take care of you, little falcon.”

He moves the hand that had been cradling her belly to guide his cock inside her heat, pushing inside with a smooth thrust as he’d nudged one of her legs to fold and go up, easing his way. They both groan; Merlynn at the sudden fullness of his fat prick and Arthur at the salacious wet grip of her cunt.

“That’s it,” Arthur breathes, nuzzling in behind her ear as he starts up a slow, deep rhythm that has her wriggling and rocking against him. “You finally have what you needed, sweetness. You’ve been aching to be stuffed by my cock since I left you full and leaking this morning, haven’t you?”   

Merlynn whines, one of her hands busy between her legs as she runs her fingers over the sweet bud of pleasure swollen by her need, occasionally slipping down to feel where they connect. He shivers and growls the first time he feels the brush of her fingers admiring the hard length of his cock as it slips in and out of her, has to bite her neck to control his desire to rut into her like an animal. He keeps his pace slow but puts more strength into it, enjoying the hitched gasps he fucks out of her like this.

“Yes,” Merlynn moans, her throat vibrating with it, and he feels it against his mouth where he’s soothing his bite with lips and tongue. “ _Yes_. I didn’t clean it up. I wanted you inside me, _oh,_ yes Arthur--!”

The thought of his seed dripping out of her cunt all day enflames him as it always does, feeding something possessive within him and leaving it purring in dark satisfaction. He adjusts the angle of his hips and aims to find that spot inside of her that drives her wild, aiming to hit it hard and relentlessly slow. “Did you sit through the council meeting soiling your underthings and thighs with my seed and your filthy, sticky juices, my little wench?” he growls, voice deep and dark in her ear. She moans, flushed at his words and passion, but nods. It sends a jolt of heat through him, imagining her squirming with filthy with their advisers surrounding them, talking of wheat and taxes while she leaks her desire. He wonders if it soaked through, if her chair was left sticky and soiled. Would he smell it on her dress? Taste it? “Did you lock yourself away somewhere to pull up your skirts and shove fingers up your cunt like a wanton?”

She shudders against him, around him, letting out a desperate shout as she comes; trembling in his embrace. Arthur curses, the tight heat of her around his cock a delicious torment. She moans his name, slipping her hand away from her cunt to wrap around his arm. The wet slide of her soaked fingers paints his skin and he feels himself ascending closer to the scorching bliss of his release.

“I did,” Merlynn groans for him, voice rough from passion. Her sated body is pliant for him, welcoming his desires. “I fucked myself on my fingers, thinking of you. _Oh_ , oh Gods—Mmm, I licked them clean after. Ah, I sucked them off and tasted both of us. I— _oh_ —I almost couldn’t stop.”

He growls, feeling the familiar knot of desire tighten in his belly and he lets it go; buries into her body and spilling deep inside of her. Fills her up again, stains her. He’s momentarily blinded by the hot flash of completion crackling through his body like lightning, his hips twitching as his cock spends itself. He feels her milk him dry, the desperate clutch of her cunt greedy even when sated and fucked properly. The barked out exclamation of her name echoes in his ears, ripples of his pleasure.

“Mmm,” Merlynn hums as he comes back to himself, lacing her sticky hand together with his own. “Stay.”

Arthur sighs, content, and doesn’t pull his prick out. He’s sensitive, and the burn of tight heat around his softening cock is borderline painful but preferable to leaving her empty. He thinks, possessively, that it might help keep her filled up. He hopes to wake up this way, harden again and wish her a good morning by fucking her awake.  

“Sleep well, sweetheart,” he breathes against her, nuzzling into her hair and taking a deep breath of their mingling scents. The musk of sex is heavy in the air and causes him to smirk in lazy satisfaction as he closes his eyes and relaxes into sleep. Merlynn’s mumbled “S’long as you stay put, prat” barely registers as the exhaustion of the day catches up with him and renders him unconscious in sleep.

.

_Arthur had been out patrolling with some of his newer knights in the outer town for most of the morning, returning around noon in a good mood. He was just about to dismiss them to swing by the practise field, hoping to catch the last of Sir Leon’s drilling before going to find his son for a few stolen moments before duty called again, when Merlynn came flying out of the castle. She was running straight for him and had she not been smiling like a complete loon he would’ve been worried. As it were, he tried to disguise the fond feeling that took over him by arranging his face into a disapproving frown. It was partly true; he had once been a helpless witness to Merlynn’s legs getting tangled in her skirts as she ran down a set of stairs, which had her falling and breaking an ankle as well as opening a frightful gash on her head. Fear as he’d never really known had gripped his heart and ripped a terrible shout from somewhere dark and desperate inside to echo through the castle. For the time it took him to reach her, shouting for Gaius and chanting her name, he’d thought her dead. He’d been ready to tear the world apart before the steady pulse of her lifeblood being pumped through her body, leaking out of her though it was, relived his dread._

_He’d contemplated finding a way to remove all stairs and convince his father to remodel the castle for a time after that. Merlynn’s amusement had been pained and resigned, fond though she was of him she’d called him a prat and promised to be more careful. It didn’t stop him from fretting, the reminder of her mortality as painful and jarring as always, but he’s gotten better over the years. He can refrain from escorting her up and down the stairs now; even watch her run without flinching._

_Really, she should be more grateful he hadn’t had her locked up in a tower where every sharp object was blunted and every hard surface padded. He really hadn’t deserved the punch to his arm when he’d attempted to reason with her using that argument._

_“Arthur!” Merlynn called, sounding breathless. Her voice was sweet with laughter, bright and strong with her excitement. His frown morphed into a helpless smile, causing the knights still awaiting his orders to smirk amongst themselves. “Darling!”_

_Her endearment warmed him as it always did. She neared him now and he readied himself to catch her in his arms, holding them open for her as she fell against him. She relied on him to halt her speed, laughing in delight when he handled the momentum of her run by swinging her around in a besotted embrace._

_“My Queen,” he greeted her, smiling. The knights murmured their respects to her but whatever had her in this bright, joyful mood had left her in distraction and she doesn’t take notice._

_“Guess what?” Merlynn grinned, bouncing on her feet as his arms settled around her waist._

_“You had mutton pie for lunch?” he replied, feeling cheeky, and grinned when he heard a few of his knights chuckle. Rolling her eyes at him, she punched his chest lightly._

_“No, you clotpole,” she laughed, pausing to smile up at his and cradle his face in her hands. “I’m pregnant!”_

_It took a moment for her words to hit him, but when they do, he felt joy spread in his chest. No doubt he looked manic, ignoring the congratulations around him, smiling so wide it hurt._

_“William will have a sibling at last,” he said, almost breathless. “Oh, sweetheart. Thank you.”_

_Merlynn rolled her eyes again, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “You had a hand in making it happen, if you remember. No need to thank me.”_

_He laughed, bright, and kissed her deeply._

_._

Ambrose Constantine Pendragon arrives late one summer eve, greeting the world with healthy cries that echoes through the castle. He’d been a stubborn one; Merlynn is left exhausted after hours of labour to deliver their son to them. She hadn’t let Arthur leave her side, just as with William, but he wouldn’t have left her willingly either way. The birth of his second son had been as harrying as his first, leaving him fretting over the lives of his beloved ones as Merlynn screamed in pain and bled through her efforts. The midwife had been the same as last; a steady, patient woman with a sure touch and calming words.

It’s over now and Merlynn has been cleaned up, the sheets has been changed, and little Ambrose is resting sweetly against her bosom. Arthur is resting against the headboard of the bed, Merlynn in his lap reclining against his chest, and he has his arms around mother and son. William had been let in moments ago, pale and wide-eyed as he’d hidden behind the skirts of his nurse. He hasn’t approached them yet, but rather stands peering curiously at them from the end of the bed.

“Come here, little Prince,” Merlynn says after a while, voice raw from her screams and exhaustion. “Meet your baby brother.”

Chewing on his lower lip, William hesitates for just a moment before he’s eagerly crawling up the bed and onto Merlynn’s lap. As if knowing he has cause to, he is careful, and Arthur smiles. William had been so frustrated and scared when he’d been refused to go with his mother as she’d announced, expression pained, that the baby was coming. He’d yelled and cried, struggling against his nurse who had been called to take him away where he wouldn’t hear his mother’s pain.

 _“How does he come out? Why’s Mother in pain?”_ Arthur had ached at being unable to comfort his son, but he had trusted the nurse to care for him. Being torn between the need to take care of his loved ones had been unpleasant and he’s glad William is here now.

“He’s so tiny,” William frowns, reaching out to hesitantly place his small hand on his little brother’s head. His pale hand stands out against the mess of dark hair, causing Arthur to smile and nuzzle at Merlynn’s own curls.

“Mm, yes. You’ll have to take care of him and protect him,” Merlynn says, smiling softly at their oldest son. William retrieves his hand and straightens up, puffing his chest out and looks as serious as a rumpled, sweet-cheeked little boy could.

“I will!” he exclaims, as if swearing an oath, and Arthur feels his heart clench with the deep affection he has for his son.

“I do not doubt you,” Merlynn says, reaching out to slide a finger down William’s rosy cheek in a gentle caress. “You’re his brave knight, after all.”

William grins, proud, and Arthur reaches out for him. He pulls the boy in, settling him down next to Merlynn and securing him within his embrace.

“Is he magic?” William wonders, playing with a strand of his mother’s hair. He doesn’t look away from Ambrose, fascinated and curious. As if on cue, Ambrose blinks his large eyes open, sleepy. They’re a deep, dark blue and bright with the innocent of a babe. He gurgles happily pushes his whole hand into his mouth as he blinks the world into focus. Briefly, his eyes flash the same bright gold as his mother’s and William squeals in delight.

Ambrose drools and blinks, then gurgles some more.

.

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine William's full name is William Arthur Pendragon, if you're wondering. 
> 
> Anyway, so. Um. I'm not 100% pleased with this one but I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
